


Impossible loves

by pacoca



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Adultery, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Genderbent Sissy Cooper, Historical Inaccuracy, Roman Catholicism, Sibling Incest, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:08:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pacoca/pseuds/pacoca
Summary: Vanya's second wedding is a game of want and wanting.Based on a scene from The Borgias.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Impossible loves

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Very loose and historically inaccurate. I tried my best to write like... a sexy historical au, but very very minor research was done for this fic I'm sorry. The smut is next chapter though!
> 
> For the Fiveya Week day 2: Dancing/Training

The papacy of Rome is held by Reginald Hargreeves, a great man of ambition and cunning that could level a nation to its knees. 

But the scandal of it is that Hargreeves ever succeeded the papacy. It is a testament to the old man’s grit, or a product of his talent for weaving a tapestry of rot and corruption that has infested the walls of His Holy Church like an infection. Rome is a carcass of itself, and its cardinals are crows that flock to peck. They are only too happy to let the puppetmaster take the lead to satiate their greed.

Reginald Hargreeves dynasty is succeeded by his seven bastard children. 

They are his chess pieces. Perfectly positioned to target the seat of the gamemaster. They are his ambassadors, cardinals, spymasters. Each child honed to each role till precision. With so many pieces to play, it's no wonder that Hargreeves had usurped the Chair of Saint Peter so easily. 

Five is the successor. The fifth of his name. He is the blood and the blade of the family, the sharp cunning he inherited from his father and honed to a deadly degree. If Regnald’s children are his chess pieces, then Five plays the Queen. It’s his arm that stretches to reach, and his hands that bloody, to filth and muck, meanwhile dear old dad speaks to the Faithful with wide arms and words of love and worship, and covers the truth of his corruption by blinding the eyes of the Faithful with the words of the Lord.

To them he is simply a messenger of God. A pious man. The shepherd that would lead the flock until the coming of the prophesied end.

But Five knows the truth. His father’s heart is an empty, black pit that gapes in his chest. If there ever was love with him, it’s a love that befits a Devil. He's never shown his children anything less.

It doesn’t matter though. Their father could fill Heaven with whatever’s left of his shrivelled, burnt up husk of a heart.

The love he reserves is right here.

  
  


——

Vanya is getting married again. 

It was unusual for a woman of her age and station to be in the same position twice, but Vanya supposed she'd never been good at anything but being the family disappointment. Stuck as the ‘black sheep’ of the family, she’d never managed to pass the gruelling trials their Father had put them through in their childhood. So he’d simply given up and treated her as something like a ‘marriageable asset’ to strengthen ties  _ just in case _ , rather than anything resembling a proper daughter.

It’s not so bad though. Her husband (a husband now, not a fiance), has a small holding out on the east, and a small, but strong army under his command. His family name is old money and has served the Roman church for generations. With the tension between Rome and Naples bubbling like a simmering top, Vanya thinks that her father, at least, is glad to be strengthening ties with a reliable ally. 

And Cecile is a good man. She knows this marriage can be a happy one. 

That is all Vanya could ever really ask for.

Their wedding ceremony is held in his estate, a couple of hours ride from Rome. It’s the middle of the evening, but the party is still alive with the spirit of wine and hearty conversation. Their wedding is held in December, near Christmas time, and the chilly frost sets still throughout the old halls. 

The dining table is rich, thick with the heady smell of cheese, fruits, roast goose and pheasant. The sweet aroma of wine, vintage, a gift from her Father’s vineyards and the hearty smell of grain and bread fills the air, swirling with the music and jovial atmosphere that makes the guests sing. 

The gentry celebrates weddings as they do on any royal occasion, with wine, dancing, an exorbitant amount of money. It’s tiring, to say the least, but Vanya’s not ready to retire to her chambers yet. She knows what is waiting for her when the party is gone and the guests have eaten their last meal. She’s no stranger to…. the marital bed, but she can’t help but feel uneasy.

It’s this unease that keeps her in limbo throughout the evening. It's like she's stuck on the centerline, dangling on the edge of a taut string. Every movement seems to move her closer, and closer to the certainty of the fall below, but staying still seems a more dangerous act to moving forward.

‘Congratulations to the newlyweds!’ Lord Giovanni, her uncle now, raises a toast towards them from the end of the banquet table. He is severely drunk, not surprising, but sober enough to remain at least ‘proper’ in this side of high society. Cecile squeezes her hand and gives her a smile, and she can’t help but give him one of her own in return.

‘Thank you, Lord Giovanni. You’re very kind.’ Vanya says.

‘Please, it’s Uncle now!’ 

‘Oh… ok. Um, Uncle.’ 

He returns with a grin and a toast of his wine. 

‘You did well, dear.’ Her husband smiles. The candlelights seem to flicker around his yellow hair like a pale halo.

He’s always been good to her. It had been difficult in the beginning, to let herself fall in love with him. They were both tending their own wounds, him a widow, her an annulment. But somehow, time did it’s course and one afternoon, Vanya found herself with a ring on her finger and a kiss on her lips, ready to love again.

A line of servants weave their way through the crowd holding large, silver jugs and plates of food. They are dressed in shades of pale cream and brown, to fit the draperies that hang on the banisters and the wall. It was her mother-in-law’s idea, though Vanya thought that it would be nice for the servants to have something else to wear for a change. The girl in front of her looks young, with a small face and wide eyes. She tilts the jug to fill her drink, and when Vanya catches her eye, she steps back quickly, bowing her head and shaking in her boots.

Vanya sips her wine. She had been like that once. Small, timid, and hopelessly innocent. It’s why Leonard found her so easy to fool. 

‘Nice wedding, sis.’ 

A familiar voice snaps her out of her thoughts. She turns and there is her brother standing before her. Tall, clever eyes, and a stride like he owned the ground he walks on, she wonders how she ever managed not to notice him until now. 

‘Five… when did you—‘

‘I just arrived. Sorry I missed the ceremony.’

‘No, no don’t be.’ She shakes her head, ‘I’m just glad you’re here.’ 

He takes her hand and leans to kiss her ring. His hand feels warm, even underneath the silk of her gloves. And his lips, when he kisses her, are soft.

Five looks up at her, and she feels her words stuck in her throat. 

‘Congrats, sister.’ He says. 

Vaguely, she registers the shape of husband in her periphery, moving across the table to send his greetings to her brother. But she feels the pinpricks of his touch on her skin still, fizzing like citrus under the fabric of her gloves.

Or maybe that’s just the wine.

She flexes her fingers under the table and hides the feeling in her fist.

‘It’s good to see you, brother, now is it?’ Her husband smiles. ‘How long has it been?’

‘Too long’ Five’s grin doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘A couple more weeks away from my beloved sister and I wouldn’t know what to do myself.’ 

‘Of course. What are we without family?’

Vanya has missed her brother dearly. It’s hard not to. Vanya thinks that even if he’s only a road away, she will miss him. It’s sappy, but he’s always been there for her, even when they were kids. She used to tease him about being her guardian angel. Now, Vanya wouldn’t know what to do without him by her side..

Though that life would probably become a reality sooner rather than later.

Her husband says goodbye, and she watches him disappear to greet a couple more of their relatives.

Five leans into her. ‘How is married life treating you?’

‘It’s only been a couple of hours.’ She smiles. 

‘A couple of hours can be enough to determine a lifetime of marriage.’ He says, matter-of-fact. 

Vanya wants to tell him that she’s never been a very good judge of character. Her first marriage was disastrous. Vanya had to escape back into the family home to hide out from Leonard. When Five had first learnt about what her first husband did, he’d been a city away. Vanya was terrified, but he came for her still. He rode the entire day, until his horse had nearly collapsed of exhaustion. When he found her she was curled up in her room, along with whatever meager belongings she’d managed to gather during the escape.

_ I’ll make him pay,  _ he said. He had held her tight as she trembled between his arms, a mix of fear and relief swirling in her gut.  _ I won’t let anyone hurt you again. _

Five let her cry all night, then stayed by her side all morning. He’d never know how thankful she was for that.

‘You’re too smart for your own good.’ Vanya tells him. ‘You’ll never get married if you think like that.’

‘Marriage is overrated.’ 

‘How will you be happy, dear brother, if there’s no one around to take care of you?’ She asks. 

‘I’ll just have to live the rest of my days as a surly drunk. The family disappointment. Live my life every other way our Father doesn’t want us to.’

‘You can never be the family disappointment.’ Vanya says. Two marriages, one so unimportant her Father never even bothered to stay for the reception. He can never be the family disappointment because she’s already here. 

If he hears the bitterness in her words, he chooses not to mention it.

‘Well, then I will live inside our Father’s cage. Wallowing in the shame of my regrets, thinking about the things I could’ve had. The things I never got to do.’

‘What things?’

Five pauses, then leans down. He has got a playful twinkle on his eye, and a devilish grin on his lips that he has no business wearing. Vanya can’t help the smile forming on her own, when he leans over and cups his hand over her ear like he’s telling her a secret.

‘Will you save me the next dance?’ He asks.

Vanya blinks. 

‘What?’ 

‘Dance with me.’ He says, and he lays his hand out and waits for her to take it.

Vanya laughs and takes his hand. 

Five has the sort of eyes that hides a sharp cunning underneath. It makes sense that their Father would choose him as the unspoken heir. They’ve always been similar this way, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.

He’s a commander now, leading the army of the Church on a march across the city of Naples. Vanya had always known Five would be made for something great, she just didn’t wish it would take him so far away. Or cause him to hide so many secrets from her.

She knows there are things he can never tell her, but out of everyone Vanya has always thought  _ she’d _ be the only one he would never lie to.

He leads her out and they join the throng of noble men and women lining up across each other to dance the  _ saltarello _ .

The music starts, the nobles bow, and the dance begins.

‘You look good.’ He says. 

‘Thank you, brother. The seamstress that my husband sent me… she was like a magician. He wanted a dress that could rival Aphrodite herself, you know.’

Vanya gives him an apologetic smile.

‘I’m not much for Aphrodite.’ She lowers her head, ‘Though I would like to be a muse though, so I would not be so unforgettable. Maybe as Calliope, singing songs of my beloved brother’s exploits? Or even Euterpe.’

The dance comes for a turn, palms together as each partner circles the other.

But her brother laces his arm around her waist effortlessly and pulls her close instead, his lips bare inches from the curve of her ear.

‘You’re beautiful.’ His voice is just a brush on her skin but it sends shivers anyway, the kind that runs through her like fingers on silk. That’s because when her brother speaks, it becomes fact. And she thinks this too, has become fact; as sure as the certainty of his voice, as the glow of her cheeks that rises from his words as they pull apart, a light like a quiet candle sparked in the small hours of the evening.

The ladies’ gowns glide smooth across the marble. Hers is half a step apart.

‘I---Thank you, brother,’ Vanya says somehow.

His smile when he catches her eye is smug, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

It’s a good thing for the powder on her cheeks, Vanya thinks, because she is burning.

Just as the dance continues on, and the music swells, Vanya’s anxiety sings into a low hum until the swirling in her gut is replaced by the steady lightness the evening brings. Though maybe it’s the presence of her brother that drapes over her unease like a salve. The smell of his hair, like fresh rainfall in the woods, the way his gaze pulls her to him like gravity, sharp and piercing, laying her bare.

Somehow, though, it calms her.

  
  


———

  
  


Vanya thinks love is a big chasm. And her heart is one that seems to be in constant need of filling. Leonard is their father’s mistake, but their time together is still stained on her skin like an old scar. She’s thought his love could fill that chasm for her. Vanya has never made a mistake as great as wanting to be loved. 

But now that chasm is protected by her love with Cecile. He is a serf, working the fields, filling with soil and tending her garden. And so is her heart with him too, as the love that he fills is heavy on her like the weight of a knoll. But his is one filled with possibilities, and his hands are tender and endlessly patient. She thinks that weeds can grow, amongst flowers, in the fertile soil that he seeds. She is a lucky woman though, because Cecile will toil for her, she knows, until their garden is beautiful and clean. 

And a person like this can only be found once in a lifetime.

  
  
  


———

  
  


The night drags on, and the party thins, save for a few stragglers nursing the aftereffects of alcohol and a heavy dinner. The bride is nowhere to be found.

Vanya and Five are hiding behind the staircase. The dust here clings on her white dress and stains it with spots of grey and yellow. At the hem, the intricate embroidery of twining vines are now littered with streaks of dirt and cobweb. 

If her mother-in-law would find out, she would faint. It’s kind of a funny thing, but she can’t find it in herself to care at the moment. That is because they are two kids again, sneaking behind their father’s back. Five, mischievous as he is, appearing in one place and disappearing the next. And Vanya’s hand on his, trailing behind him like a lost pup.

Vanya notices the dust on his hair, and she moves instinctively to brush it off.

‘Hey.’ He frowns, but there's a smile there. She’s doing that thing again.  _ Mothering  _ him. He grabs her wrist and keeps it close. His large fingers wrap around hers so easily. 

‘Cobwebs.’ She says. Five grins. He keeps his fingers on his wrist, tracing her pulse mindlessly with his thumb. 

‘So.’ She says. ‘How long will you be away?’

‘A month.’

'A  _ month _ ?' Vanya is incredulous. 

'Give or take.’ He doesn’t take his eyes off her wrist. 'Depending on how stubborn the old king of Naples is about keeping a minor hold.

He looks at her. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ 

‘You could  _ die.’  _

‘So could the King.’ He grins, ‘I’ve always found myself favourable to a good game of chance.’

He’s always been ambitious, but  _ this?  _

To think, only a few months ago she was worried about spending Christmas without him.

‘I don’t understand why you always have to go on these dangerous missions for Father.’

‘Father’s orders, just like your marriage with that husband of yours. We are all just pawns to him, at the end. Another move in the chessboard of the grand game.’

‘I love him, at least.’ She says. 

They’re quiet for a moment.

‘Are you afraid?’ He asks. Shouldn’t this question be for him? Marriage is hardly comparable to war. 

‘No.’ She says firmly, then her face falls, ‘Yes.’

He holds her hand wordlessly.

‘Cecile is a good man.’ Vanya says. ‘He’s not going to hurt me.’

‘Good.’

‘But still.’ Her voice is quiet. ‘Sometimes… I don’t know. I’ve made so many mistakes, I’m not even sure I know what love is. Maybe I’m broken.’

She thinks about Leonard and his kind gaze, the way it turned so quickly into venom after the dust settled and the gold from her dowry wasn’t enough to satiate his greed anymore. She thinks about her husband now, and the way he holds himself so carefully. The warmth in his gaze, and the fear too, one that mirrors her own. Vanya wonders if she can ever reciprocate the comfort he’s given her, one that she’d forgotten she needed after so many lonely years on her own. 

She wonders if she’s even capable.

‘If you know what it looks like can you let me know?’ 

‘You’ll know.’ Her brother’s voice is soft. ‘If I know one thing, God wouldn’t put someone like you on the Earth to live a life without love.’ 

‘Someone like me?’

‘Someone good.’ He says. ‘Your heart needed time to heal, just as we have when our wounds are too great. That’s all.’ 

‘I don’t think I’m a good person.’ She says. ‘I think I’m a terrible wife.’ 

Vanya looks at him, and smiles. His eyes are warm, but there’s a darker truth that lingers behind them. A secret she could never figure out. Vanya has always wondered what he’s thinking when he looks at her like that. 

She wonders if it’s something similar to her own. 

‘They’ve been talking about you, you know. The things you’ve done.’ Vanya says. 

‘Vanya…’

‘Is it true?’ She asks. 

Her brother has never been afraid to get his hands dirty. She’s not sure if the trait is something he’s born with, or a product of the years living under their Father’s gruelling ‘missions’. But the rumours they say… the man he’s become, it’s a different picture from the man beside her, with his gentle words, and eyes like that of an angel, spreading his wings, taking her home with him. 

She takes his hand, and leans down to kiss it. The leather of his glove is cool. She imagines what the skin underneath would feel like on her lips. Or his fingers, the rough feeling of the calluses on his fingertips. 

‘I shall wash it for you if you want.’ She smiles, ‘Make you clean again.’

He brushes his hand across her cheeks, cups them within his palm.

She wants to stay here with him. Five’s love is steady. Limitless, in a way that can’t be measured, it simply exists. 

There’s no garden to be built here with him, but his is an endless wasteland that stretches out to the scorching ends of the earth. He pulls the soil and makes it his, and Vanya’s fears are pulled along with it, until it blends and blends into the certainty of his voice, and the steady, piercing gaze of his eyes. 

Five’s love makes her brave, in a way that no one else can. The way he treasures her has a gravity and existence of its own. When he’s gone, the shadow of him haunts her footsteps, and it  _ hurts _ , a feeling in her chest that constricts and constricts, until he comes back and Vanya is washed with the feeling of relief and belonging that only his presence could bring. 

And now their paths are diverging into separate roads. She with her husband and their marriage and the future of a family, a cage she’s built around herself. Him with their Father’s ambition, a road that sees him rise, but the blood that spills on the steps is an endless river that her brother would drown in.

He takes his hand from her cheek, brushes her hair back, then keeps it to his side. Five looks at her in that way of his again. It’s almost a game between them, to chase after the secret behind his eyes. 

‘Remember when I said that I wanted to be one of Apollo’s muse?’ Vanya says. ‘I’d like to be Urania. So I’d always know you.’

‘It’s unfortunate though, but God has made me to be just a simple woman. So I am stuck here, waiting for you to come home safe from your adventures.’ She takes his hand and places it on her chest, ‘But I’d keep you in my heart. Right here. I’ll wait for you forever.’

‘When you call. I’ll come for you.’ He says. ‘I promise.’

‘You can’t promise that.’

‘I’m doing it anyway.’ He says, stubborn as always. He gazes at her like he dares her to challenge him. ‘I’ll come for you. And if this husband of yours hurts you, I’ll kill him.’

Vanya blinks. 

‘Five…. You won’t do that.’ She sighs. 

But the smile that splits across his face is playful.

‘You’d be surprised about all the the things I can do, sister’ 

She’d almost wanted to ask what he meant by that. But then they hear the guests rousing, muffled, drunk voices calling her name from the grand hall. The sound of shoes stomping above them, the opening and closing of doors. The servants are starting to call her name too. 

‘It’s almost midnight.’ He says. 

‘I know.’ 

The wedding. Her… duty as a wife. Vanya had almost forgotten. The unease swirls back in her chest, and she feels her throat constricting. If she shivers, Vanya clenches her teeth, and does her best to keep it in. 

They hear the shuffling of feet in the corridor beyond. 

‘I should go.’ She says, ‘They’re looking for me.’ 

‘Stay.’ 

‘Five…’ 

‘I haven’t given you your wedding present yet.’ 

He holds her gaze for a beat, before reaching for his pocket. Vanya looks at him carefully, and watches as he takes out a tiny, brown leather box and places it on his palm. He watches her expression as he opens up the box, and slowly reveals what’s inside. 

It’s a necklace. 

Simple in design, made of pure gold, the color glimmers like sunsets over water. The necklace weaves across each other and cascades down, to reveal a small, pale, diamond encrusted around a golden pendant. The rim braids in and out of the diamond like the sinking waves of a golden sunset. She thinks about the lake in their summer home. The way the fading light has cast on the hills and bathed the waters. The smell of rock, and salt. Laughter travelling across the breeze, sneaking out, hand in hand, the warmth of his company. 

It was the first time Vanya had ever snuck out with him after one of their Father’s gruelling missions. Vanya had always been on her own, she’d been pretty much useless to their Father and he’d told her as such, but Five has always had a rebellious streak. He took her hand as they snuck out the window together, and then they played in the lake while the sun went down. 

The color on the pattern of this necklace is the exact same as the color of that sunset as those years before. 

She holds it against her palm, and watches the diamond blinking under the light.

‘I picked it up from a travelling merchant when I was away. He’d come from India, as well as several other continents. It’s rare, one of the last pieces ever made by an old jeweller. I thought you might like it.’

‘Oh, Five.’ She looks at him in awe. ‘This is—‘

It’s beautiful, it fits her perfectly. She doesn’t know how he managed to think up something so perfect, but somehow, he’s always known her better than she could ever know herself. 

‘Wear it, it’s for you.’ He says. He looks so smug, and Vanya can’t even find it in her to be mad about it. 

‘I will.’ She says. ‘I promise, first thing tomorrow.’

‘You can wear it now.’ 

‘Now?’, Vanya touches her necklace, the thick, encrusted sapphires are laid out across her collarbone like a chain. It’s grand, and heavy, and several generations old, an engagement gift courtesy of her husband’s family. She was meant to wear it for the duration of the wedding as a symbol of their family’s union, ‘Oh I don’t know if that would be proper…. This is Cecile’s heirloom. I don’t know if….’

He touches her arm, and the movement is enough to keep her still. Five brushes the stray hairs off her neck, and casually places a finger underneath the necklace. 

‘You’ve worn it for most of the day. I doubt your husband’s great, great, great Aunt Clarice is going to object to you taking it off for the last hour.’ 

Vanya laughs. 

Well, she could see his reasons. 

She turns her back towards him, tilting her head forward, keeping a hand steady at the back of her head to sweep the stray hairs off her neck. ‘Well, go on then.’ She says, and waits for him to move. 

They’re close. She feels him in her proximity, a warm, heavy presence that makes her feel like she’s underwater. He unclasps her necklace. The leather of his gloves feels cool on her neck, a quiet shudder runs across her spine at the feeling.

He steps back once he puts his necklace on. It barely has weight, and yet the feeling of the cold metal on her skin grounds jer in a way nothing else seems to. She doesn’t realise how heavy the old sapphires sat on her chest, and now the pressure is gone and Vanya feels… lighter. Braver than she’s ever been before. 

A reminder of his affection, and the everlasting protection he brings. 

‘It looks good on you.’ His voice is soft. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘You told me that already.’ She says, nervous all of a sudden.

‘I know.’

The air has changed somehow, something more. It’s a feeling, just before hurtling into the edge of the unknown. Vanya’s heart beats in her blood, chasing after the thrill.

She squeezes his hand, and before she can second guess herself, rises on her feet to give him one last, lingering kiss on the cheek. Payment for the gift, the company he’s provided, and one last, act of selfishness for herself before their fates take them to roads she can’t follow. 

‘Thank you.’ She smiles at him. 

His brows furrow, his eyes seem in pain, somehow. His hold tightens against her hand, a mild pressure from his thumb digging into her palm. Bit by bit, the pressure wanes and the strength of his fingers wilt, sagging from her hold. 

Slowly, reluctantly, he lets her go.

__


End file.
